


I Quit

by Vamphile



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-21
Updated: 2006-03-21
Packaged: 2018-12-26 19:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12065808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vamphile/pseuds/Vamphile
Summary: Brian and Justin quit smoking...what will they do with their time?





	I Quit

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes: Someone on LJ asked for this...or well, a story of some sort...we narrowed it down and this is the plot i came up with...and turns out...it's really more a PWP...have fun..or don't.  
  
Review/concrit always appreciated  


* * *

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I Quit

* * *

“Brian you said you were gonna quit.”

“I say a lot of things.”

“No actually, you don’t.”

“Whatever, I was probably high.”

“How does that make it a less binding promise.”

“I didn’t fucking promise anything.”

“But you have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

Justin rolled his eyes. “Fine, die like your father, Gus won’t miss you.”

Brain turned away from him and walked towards the kitchen island, where he lit a cigarette and exhaled slowly. “I’m not fucking quitting.”

“You have to.”

“This argument is going in circles.”

“You have the insurance physical in two weeks, and if you can’t get insurance you’ll be fucked. You have the very real threat of dying before you get to see Gus grow up, because lung cancer runs in your family. And… you said you would. So if you don’t, you’re fucked, a bad father and a liar.”

“None of that’s new.”

“Brian.”

He shook his head and stubbed his cigarette out. “There, I quit now what?”

Justin smiled. “Really quit? For good?”

“At least until after the insurance physical… but that means you quit too.”

“I told you I would if you did.”

“So now we’ve both quit smoking…”

“Fuck me.”

Brian didn’t need to be asked twice, or commanded twice, depending upon the timbre of Justin's voice. He was pulling the blonde’s clothes off of him before he even registered what he’d just agreed to. “Fuck. Can I at least smoke after sex?”

Justin was scraping his teeth along Brian’s collarbone. He stopped long enough to respond. “Nope, not even then.”

“Does pot count?”

Justin's mouth was working on Brian’s nipple while his fingers were sliding Brian's shirt off his shoulders. He looked up. “Yep, no weed. You’ll just be stoned all the time…you have an oral fixation.”

“ _I_ have an oral fixation?” He was smirking at Justin who was slowly moving his way down Brian's stomach. “I’m not the one about to…” and then he stopped talking. Conversation was pointless when Justin's mouth was doing _that_.

Justin's mouth continued to do _that_ for a while, and just before Brian’s knees buckled he collapsed back against the bed, and Justin crawled on top of him. He ran his fingers through Justin's hair, kissing him deeply. His other hand was automatically reaching towards the nightstand for a cigarette. 

Justin pulled his errant hand back and kissed his fingertips, shaking his head. “No smoking remember?”

“I remember everything.”

“Then what are you looking for?”

“Gum.” Brian lied.

Justin nodded, grinning, but not believing him. 

A few minutes later Justin was on his knees, his face pushed against the pillows, Brian’s body stretched across his back, and filling him from the inside. The things Justin did to keep Brian healthy…

The night passed in a similar fashion. Brian would reach for a cigarette, be reminded that he couldn’t have one, and fuck or blow Justin until he forgot his craving for a short while. This of course led to the need for a post orgasmic cigarette, which started the cycle all over again. 

When Justin awoke the next morning and stretched he realized that maybe he should have tapered Brian off cigarettes, or at least allowed him one after sex. But then, if he were only allowed a cigarette after sex, he realized, he’d be in the same predicament he was now… covered in bite marks, sore, in a good way, and not as well rested as one might hope with a full day of classes and a diner shift before he could collapse back into bed.

He groaned and headed towards the shower, but not before finding Brian's searching fingers on the nightstand and moving his hand back to his chest. “No morning cigarette.”

Brian groaned now too and joined Justin in the shower. By the time Brian had his third cup of coffee he realized his headache wasn’t going anywhere soon. “Cravings that bad?” Justin asked, as he watched Brian rubbing his temples and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fuck you, this isn’t about smoking, this is about some twink who kept me up all night because he couldn’t get enough.” 

Justin opened his mouth to say something but took a bite of toast instead. Pointing out that it was Brian’s appetites that had kept them up was not going to help his mood. And he had a feeling that this mood might be settling in for a long stay. He shrugged and placed three aspirin on the counter instead. “Can’t get enough of you.”

Brian downed the aspirin, smirked and kissed Justin’s forehead before grabbing his briefcase and heading to the office.

Justin pulled his portfolio closed, made sure he had what he needed for all his classes and headed towards the bus. He saw Brian standing in front of the jeep looking guilty. He crossed the street and leaned in to kiss him.

“You smell like smoke.”

“I just rescued a cat from a burning building.”

“Mmmmmm hmmm, where’s the cat?”

“I gave it back to its owner. Cute little kid, cried when she thanked me.”

Justin leaned his portfolio against the jeep and stuck his hands in Brian’s jacket pockets retrieving a half a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. He confiscated both. “Now you get to drive me to school.”

“Fuck that.”

“I have to check the car for more cigarettes and I just missed the bus.”

Brian gave a look of put upon boyfriend and loaded Justin’s portfolio into the back seat. “Fine, but let’s go, I’ve got a meeting at ten.”

“I hope they’re looking for the brutally honest approach. I don’t think you have it in you to be charming today.”

“I’m always charming.”

Justin snorted and began a thorough search of the car, resulting in three half empty packs, one on the floor and two in the console, and two unopened in the glove compartment. He threw them all in his backpack.

“Give me my lighter back.”

“You don’t smoke anymore, you don’t need a lighter”

“It’s my good luck charm.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Why do you get to keep the cigarettes? Didn’t you quit too?”

“Yeah, but I’m not addicted, so it’s easier for me.”

“Not addicted? Justin who smokes the six cartons of Marlboro lights a month that I get delivered?”

“Me, but only because they’re there. If they weren’t I’d just bum them off of you.”

“So it’s my fault you smoke so much.”

“Yes. As is global warming and the current fucktard in the white house.”

“Okay, good. So I clearly deserve to die. Which means it’s silly to deny me my cigarettes.”

“Well, then lets be silly for a while.”

“You know I could just buy more.”

“Yes, but see, I trust you.”

“That’s your first mistake.”

“No, not my first, just one of many. I am trusting you on this though Brian. Please.”

“Fine. No more smoking today.”

“‘Til the insurance physical.”

“Can I just worry about today?”

“Absolutely, one step at a time, and all that recovery bullshit.”

Brian wanted to slam on the brakes and kick the little twat out of the car. Instead he just drove faster, getting him to school as quickly as possible.

“We’re here. Go learn something.”

“I’ve got a shift at the diner after class, won’t be home 'til late. Stop by for dinner.”

Brian nodded and accepted Justin's peck on the cheek before pulling out and heading towards the office. He reached into his pocket automatically, and then grunted in aggravation. The aspirin had done little for his headache.

He stopped for a latte. He’d lied, his meeting wasn’t 'til ten thirty but moving Justin along in the morning sometimes took some creative schedule manipulation. Sometimes it even took outright lying.

The day seemed to be moving in slow motion. He fucked the client after the pitch meeting, but more out of habit, and the need to do something with his mouth than any actual attraction to the rather average looking guy. 

He chewed through three packs of gum and checked his schedule…he had a two hour block free for lunch before he had to be back to meet with creative for the final boards for the organic cereal account. He smiled to himself and took off in the jeep at top speed.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

When he found Justin he was knee deep in paint and cursing at a canvas in an empty life class studio. 

“What did that canvas ever do you?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I had a few hours off.”

“So?

“So you have my cigarettes and lighter, which leaves me nothing to suck on.”

Justin wiped the paint off his hands and onto his jeans. Brian tried not to wince. He was somewhat relived to see Justin searching through his backpack, and less than amused when he was offered a blow pop by his well meaning little twink. 

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with that.”

“Suck on it… it’ll at least kill that oral fixation you’ve got going.” Justin was still holding out sugar on a stick. Brian knocked it out of his hand. “Not what I wanted to suck on.”

“Well, I threw the cigarettes out.”

Brian raised an eyebrow…then what else have you got? He took of his jacket and hung it carefully over a stool that seemed to be relatively paint free. He moved closer to Justin until he was looming over him. 

“Brian, I’m covered in paint, and in the middle of…” he tried ineffectually to push Brian back a little but the man was pressing himself against his body. “My school.” Justin finished somewhat breathlessly.

Brian moved steadily forward, while Justin backed away from him just a bit. Eventually Brian steered them to a somewhat discreet corner shielded from the door by a supply cabinet. He leaned in and kissed Justin, sucking his tongue rhythmically into his own mouth. 

“Brian.” If Justin's physical attempt at warding Brian off was ineffectual, the result his words had were worse…they were producing the opposite desired effect. Brian turned Justin around until his back was to the room, and Brian was kneeling in front of him, hidden entirely by the large metal cabinet. 

“Brian.” This time there was no warning in Justin's tone…just desire.

Brian's hands moved carefully and soon Justin felt the warm wet comfort of Brian's mouth surrounding his cock. His jeans were lowered just enough and Brian's hands were stroking under Justin's paint covered smock, finding and worrying his nipples while his mouth sucked hard on just the head of his now throbbing hard on. “Brian” this time it was a gasp. “Class starts in 20 minutes.”

Brian didn’t say a word, knowing this wouldn’t take half that long, especially if he…. And he did. Moving his hands to press a wet digit into Justin's ass while he deep throated him. 

Justin bit his lip to prevent himself from crying out. He threw his head back, but realized that made him more exposed so instead he leaned forward, placing a hand on either side of Brian on the wall behind him. He rode the feelings, moving his hips gently. He didn’t want to press to hard, to choke his partner, who did, Justin figured, deserve some reward for not simply buying a pack at the local convenience store. 

Brian felt Justin relax into and move ever so slightly in and out of his mouth. And as he angled his head for better depth and suction Justin made soft noises in the back of his throat that no amount of lip biting could prevent. He began twisting his finger inside Justin as he moved his free hand to cup his balls gently. He felt Justin's orgasm start and redoubled his efforts with his tongue until he was rewarded with a thick burst of seed down his throat. He continued to manipulate Justin’s prostate just a bit, milking the orgasm until he was sure Justin’s upright position was supported almost entirely by his palms, which were splayed against the cinderblock wall. 

He stood up then, tucking Justin back into his clothes, and kissing him deeply, letting him taste himself on his tongue. 

“You’re gonna have to stop by for lunch tomorrow. I won’t have time to drive all the way here to see you.”

Justin rolled his eyes, and then leaned his head against Brian’s shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Brian smiled and kissed him again before leaving the studio, jacket swung over his shoulder… whistling.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Justin sad down on the stool in front of the canvas he’d been working on and pretended to be studying his progress. In fact he was simply trying to catch his breath. Maybe it was wrong to ask Brian to give up something he wasn’t ready to quit…but then again, if this was the fringe benefit…maybe he should have made him quit sooner… of course the problem with all this was while Justin may not be addicted to nicotine…a post coital smoke was something he had an occasional craving for as well and right now, chewing on the end of his paintbrush just wasn’t doing it for him.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Brian made it through the day, and in fact the rest of the week somewhat unscathed. His headache started to abate, and Justin’s oral fixation was just as ingrained as his at this point so when they were home together he almost didn’t miss the relaxing feel of the first inhale. The comforting ritual of removing a cigarette from the pack, lighting it, and settling back for seven minutes of not having to do whatever you were doing before you lit up. Almost…

But after the first week things turned a different corner. The novelty of Justin’s blowjobs never wore off but the need for a cigarette became somewhat overwhelming. It was also fucking annoying how much Justin seemed to not really miss any of it. He didn’t automatically reach for one in the familiar circumstances that would usually call for a smoke.

But then again Justin didn’t drive. To Brian it was automatic. Keys in ignition. Start the car. Light a cigarette, roll down the windows a bit, and then head for planned destination. It was all part and parcel of the driving experience and now it was missing. He found himself checking his seatbelt, shifting from fifth gear back into fifth gear for no reason other than his hands felt like they should be doing something. 

His mood got worse, and as it did, Justin seemed to get more and more irritatingly happy.

On the tenth day Brian was pissed off. The idiot twins had fucked up the organic cereal campaign AGAIN. Mikey was nagging him to come out to Woody’s and Babylon, which on most nights would be fine, but he had a six am meeting that he hadn’t had enough time to prepare for because he’d spent the day fixing the cereal boards and to top it all off Justin was fucking singing when he came home.

Singing. Brian shook his head and tried not to wonder too much what would happen if he just say, gagged the kid for the night.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Justin was singing because he’d had a relatively good day. Life was easier when you didn’t have to haul ass from one side of town to the other because your “non boyfriend whatthefuckever we’re-nothing-to-each-other-but-you-damn-well-better-be-around-when-I-want-you-to-be.” Doesn’t require your presence at lunch on a daily basis to satisfy is cravings. 

On the other hand…Justin was more than happy to oblige, and not just because Brian gave amazing head, but because hell, it was kind of a breakthrough that Brian wasn’t giving amazing head to whatever waiter or busboy happened to be convenient during lunch. 

Yeah, he missed smoking, especially when he was at Woody’s or Babylon drinking but he’d live. Brian on the other hand didn’t look like he’d made it through the day unscathed.

Justin covered the rice and checked the temp on the oven and moved towards him. He stopped when he saw the dangerous glint in Brian's eye. Justin was smart enough to just back away. Brian was in no mood. He smiled at the glowering countenance and turned his attention back to dinner. Although he doubted Brian would eat. He was in a MOOD.

“Hey.” He said casually, pretending to be searching for something in the refrigerator.

Brian grunted something in return. He slammed his briefcase down and headed to the bedroom to change. Justin assumed he’d be going out, and at this point, would be relived to see him go. Let him burn off some fucking steam. Or just fuck off some burning steam, or whatever, come back half drunk, vaguely stoned, and far easier to deal with.

“This is your fucking fault you know.”

Justin decided to humor him. “I’m sure it is. It’s always my fault.”

“Fuck you. You don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m sorry, what exactly is all my fucking fault today?”

“This.”

Justin turned to see what Brian was indicating, but he was leaning against the bedroom door frame in sweats and a black wife beater and didn’t seem to be gesturing to anything at all. 

“I’m gonna have to buy a vowel.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “I could be out, but I’m stuck at home trying to figure out what I’m gonna do about the Sanderson beef account.”

“Wow, sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Brian looked at him oddly “done what?”

Justin shrugged. “Whatever I did that caused you to have to stay in and work on Sanderson beef.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“You said it was my fault.”

“It is.”

“Then I’m sorry.” Justin said it with a tone that concluded the conversation and moved on to debating between broccoli and spinach. He decided a spinach salad would work better with what he was making and pulled out the bag of pre-washed baby spinach leaves. He was emptying them into a colander to rinse them when Brian started again.

“You don’t have to wash those.”

“I’ve got time, we’re apparently not going out.”

“No, I have to work on…”

“The Sanderson beef pitch. I heard you.”

“Why are you being so calm?”

“You want me to be upset that you have to work? I can rant and rave if it’ll make you happier.”

“Don’t do anything to make me happy.”

“Pfft. Okay.”

“Fuck off.”

“Okay.”

“What is WITH you?”

“Brian, shut up.”

“I’m supposed to shut up? You’re the one not making any sense.”

Justin wondered if pointing out that he was merely agreeing with Brian, and Brian was the one forgoing logic, and refusing to apply any sort of cause and effect to his reading of events. But he decided it was prudent to just shut up and let Brian go. He’d rant for a while and then he’d admit he wanted a cigarette and then they’d fuck… if it all went according to plan, they’d be done before the pork loin. He calmly started to rinse the spinach again.

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?”

“What would you like me to say?”

Brian poured himself a drink and Justin busied himself with the salad in order to hide his amusement and how predictable Brian could be. 

Brian slammed his glass down, aggravated that he wasn’t getting a response. He was itching for a knock down drag out… couldn’t Justin see that? The kid was usually so good at reading him, and suddenly he’s in the mood for a domestic evening in? What the fuck?

Justin watched as Brian booted up the computer and did everything but mutter to himself. He fidgeted with a paperclip, and drummed his fingers against the desk. He sorted and resorted the three pieces of paper on his desk… all things he never had to worry about before. Turn on the computer, light a cigarette…exhale…wait… begin work. Suddenly there was nothing to do but sit and watch the screen. He wanted to throw the fucking monitor across the room.

Instead he stood up and stormed across the loft to… there was nowhere to storm to. “This place is too fucking small.”

“You could move. Or buy the place downstairs and expand.”

“I’m not buying an entire new loft just because your crap is all over the place.”

“Okay.”

Justin still wasn’t taking the bait and Brian was starting to fume… okay, he’d gone past fuming on the way home. At this point he just wanted to…

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“I need a fucking cigarette.”

Justin put crumbled some bacon over the spinach leaves and added some plum cherry tomatoes, popping one in his mouth before moving the salad to the table. “I know.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because I’m not addicted to nicotine.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not. It’s weird, I know, I smoke almost as much as you do, but…” Justin shrugged. “Some people just have more addictive personalities than others.”

Brian was standing behind Justin now. “Really, you think I have an addictive personality?”

“You don’t?”

Brian was biting at Justin's neck. “I think I’m addicted to your new body wash.”

“Well, I’ll make sure not to use it then. I can switch, or use yours.”

“No, I like it.”

“Because you have an addictive personality.”

“Justin.”

“Mmmmmm?”

“Shut up,”

“Okay.”

Brian's arms were around Justin's waist now as he maneuvered him towards the bedroom.

“Brian I have to set the timer.”

“Fuck the timer.”

“Okay.”

He pulled Justin's shirt off, his hand stopping to tweak each nipple before he pulled it over his head. He threw the shirt off to the left somewhere and continued walking him up the steps. Justin didn’t resist… his timer was working just fine, they’d be done in time for dinner.

Brian was kissing the back of his neck now, and down between his shoulder blades. His hands were moving below the waistband of his cargos. “Going commando today?”

“It saves time in the long run.”

“Really?”

“Were you going to leave my underwear on?”

“Maybe I wanted to take them off you.”

“Is it really worth arguing about at this point?” Justin asked as he took a step forward and completely out of his pants, which had dropped to his ankles.

“Probably not, but still, I should punish you for walking around like that.”

“Really?”

Brian nodded against Justin's back, and he felt shivers as Brian's hair tickled him. “That feels good.”

Brian unceremoniously pushed Justin face first into the mattress and his mouth was soon moving down each vertebrae, his hair brushing feather light against Justin's skin, his mouth more insistent. Justin moaned.

“Like that?”

“Yeah.” 

Brian smiled and his hands pulled Justin’s ass cheeks apart. He watched appreciatively as Justin moved forward a little, his knees finding purchase on the mattress, his elbows digging in so that he could push forward towards Brian's tongue. Brian obliged, licking and nibbling at the sensitive skin around the tight pink hole that was, at the moment, his only focus.

Moments later Justin was whimpering and moaning deeply, somehow at the same time. And Brian was moving his tongue in ways that should be illegal, or patented, or both.

Justin dropped his head into the mattress and pushed back harder, he wanted more but Brian refused to touch him anywhere else. 

He reached his own hand to his leaking cock, but he knew it was a pointless endeavor even as he tried. Brian was running this particular show, and wasn’t about to give up control now. “Brian.”

Brian ignored the pleas and continued his invasion with tongue and fingers only, refusing stubbornly to touch Justin, or allow him to touch himself. Moving those nimble and desperate fingers away each time Justin reached down trying to find his own release. 

Justin felt Brian’s body cover his. He felt the blunt head of his sheathed cock against his ass and he tried to push back. 

“Relax sonny-boy, patience.” 

Justin was out of patience. He tried to angle his body, spreading himself open beneath Brian. Brian pushed into him slowly, agonizingly slowly. He moaned and tried to impale himself but Brian's mouth was on his neck. Their hands had found one another, and their fingers were entwined. “Fuck dinner, let it burn. I’m not even hungry.” 

Justin blinked once at the clock and smiled…they were right on schedule, dinner was in no danger of burning… he on the other hand might burst into flames at any moment if Brian didn’t let him come soon. Brian pushed fully into him and he gasped as they established a hard fast rhythm. 

“So close Brian.”

Justin was panting and desperate now. He felt Brian wrap his arm around his waist and pull him up. He felt the pace change and he moaned Brian's name again. “Come for me Justin.” And he did, as Brian bit into his shoulder and his orgasm ripped through the both of them. 

Moments later they were both laying in bed allowing their heart rates and breathing to return to normal. Eventually Justin leaned over and kissed Brian and then grabbed a pair of sweat pants from beside the bed. 

By the time Brian finished in the bathroom Justin had dinner on the table.

“Still not hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Have a seat.”

“I still want a cigarette.”

“I know.” Justin smiled.


End file.
